


i saw that look you gave (it took my breath away)

by sublimeskies



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Angst-Free, Attempt at Humor?, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Social Media is the True Cockblock, byeongkwan is fucking whipped and seyoon is Oblivious (or is he), idk how tags work but i hope y'all find it through these?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublimeskies/pseuds/sublimeskies
Summary: "What's the deal with you and Thick Thighs?" Yoochan takes the pack of chips from Byeongkwan's hold, which normally makes him punch the younger boy, but the past few days haven't been normal (and this day isn't any different.).He sighs, eyes fixed on black hair, "Nothing."Yoochan keeps eating, "What do you mean?"He breaks his gaze and moves to Yoochan, "I mean nothing. He's ignoring my tweets." He spares a glance at the black-haired boy again and sighs. He's been doing that a lot lately. "It's useless."Yoochan's eyes are narrowed and suspicious because his best friend never uses social media and what the fuck, did he just say he tweets his fucking crush?"What the fuck man?" He screeches when Yoochan grabs his phone."You idiot." Yoochan mumbles."How is he gonna see your tweets if you're fucking shadowbanned?"or:in which byeongkwan's constant efforts to get seyoon's attention are turned to dust because twitter's dumb but he's even dumber for getting shadowbanned.(the shadowban!au inspired by me getting shadowbanned for hours)





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> henlo so i haven't written a fic in like a year and i have NEVER posted on ao3 so pls bear with me thank . ALSO this concept started out as a joke between me and oomf because i got shadowbanned. basically on my way to scotland the plot became concrete and i thought why not so here u go. idk where i'm going with this but i hope you guys like it.

Byeongkwan really hates university.

 

He thinks back to his high school self and curses him for thinking it couldn't get any worse than that because  _guess what dumbass, it can_  (and it did, for the most part). 

 

But he supposes what stops it from being complete and utter shit is having his best friend, Yoochan, suffer the Devil's Asshole alongside him (he believes calling it that makes him less pathetic, or that's what he tells himself every day.) 

 

Maybe what also makes it slightly, probably, on some aspect, more bearable is Kim Seyoon. Or Thick Thighs, if it's Yoochan you'd rather ask. 

 

If university is the Devil, Byeongkwan strongly believes Kim Seyoon is the angel sent to save him. Except the angel doesn't know who he is. 

 

They've shared glances and on more than one occasion, they've smiled at each other. Byeongkwan's pretty sure they talked once when he saw him hanging out with his hyungs, but that's the closest acknowledgement he gets from the one person who makes university somehow worth attending.

 

"He's doing it again." He hears Yoochan whisper to Junhee, but his attention's transfixed somewhere else ( _someone else_ sounds more accurate, but he'll never admit). 

 

He's known Yoochan and Junhee for years through their shared dance classes. If there's one person (or two, in this case) who would know when he likes someone, it'd be them. 

 

"How long has he been staring?" Junhee whispers to Yoochan as if Byeongkwan can't hear anything they're saying.

 

Yoochan looks at his watch, mumbling as he counts, "Two minutes. Three if we count him trying to play it cool before failing." 

 

Junhee ruffles Byeongkwan's hair in disappointment. Byeongkwan swats his hand away.

 

"Fuck off, hyung." His gaze towards the black-haired boy only breaks this time to punch Junhee in the arm because he's a dick and Yoochan, stolen chips and all, isn't any better.

 

 _It's fine,_ Byeongkwan reminds himself.Two minutes is nothing compared to the five last Monday. It shows self-control.  _It's progress,_ he thinks, and finally settles with not looking at the boy any longer. 

 

That's when Seyoon looks.

 

—

 

Byeongkwan used to be really fucking smooth with people. 

 

He'd throw pick-up lines here and there, making girls, boys, and anyone in between weak in their knees. He was a master at making people  _love him._ Part of him thinks that's how he got Yoochan and Junhee to be his friends (False. He twisted his knee during dance practice and cried for five hours. They figured he can't survive alone). 

 

What made it easy for him was how quickly he could figure people out. 

 

But Seyoon was different.

 

Kim Seyoon is fucking magnificent and ethereal. He has the softest eyes and most delicate lips Byeongkwan’s ever seen. Kim Seyoon walks in the room like first day of Spring after shitty winter and  _god,_ Byeongkwan thinks,  _how the fuck am I supposed to approach him?_

 

He doesn’t.

 

Instead, he watches from afar; waits until they bump into each other because of Junhee and makes small talk, no matter how shit he is at it.

 

 _How was your day?_ Seyoon asked him once.

 _Yeah_ was all that escaped his lips.

 

The world decides he shouldn’t wait any longer today, though, because right beside Junhee is Kim Seyoon in all his black shirt, black hair coordinated glory. Byeongkwan stops dead in his tracks, takes one look at his pink, stained shirt (he thinks it’s ketchup) with the largest, unnecessary sunny side-up print, and knows he’s _fucked._

 

The Devil’s Asshole is clenched a lot tighter today because Seyoon decides the perfect time to look up at Byeongkwan is when he’s about to make a run for it.

 

“Byeongkwan!” He stands frozen at the sound of Junhee calling him. He thinks of various ways to kill his hyung as he makes his way to them. _Poison,_ he concludes, is the best option.

 

“Hey!” Byeongkwan cheers a bit too loudly. He winces at himself, hands clutching his bag straps too tight and toes curling at its maximum. He glances at Seyoon and they nod at each other.

 

Junhee motions for him to sit beside them, and as much as he’d rather chew glass right now, he obliges. Junhee’s smile is wide, knowing, and he taps Byeongkwan a bit harder than usual.

 

He thinks of killing Junhee later tonight.

 

“I haven’t seen you in dance class lately.” Junhee starts, “What you been up to?”

 

“Coursework’s taking up my schedule, sorry. I’m going to start attending more again, I promise.” Byeongkwan swears and Junhee glares at him playfully. The tension in his shoulders ease momentarily. _Yes, Byeongkwan,_ he thinks, _you’re going to be just fine._

 

It takes one look at Seyoon to know he is, in fact, not fine.

 

Junhee takes notice and perks up, almost proud, “That’s good! You better come back immediately because we have someone new in class.”

 

Byeongkwan’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Who?”

 

His hyung gives him a knowing look, eyes looking pointedly at Seyoon, and his stomach drops.

 

 _What the fuck?_ Is what he thinks, but “Oh” is all he’s able to say.

 

“Yup! He’s really good but I think he’d really appreciate a little help from you.” Junhee winks and _god,_ Byeongkwan’s already choosing what poison to give his friend.

 

He decides on poison ivy.

 

“So, um, dance, huh?” He fidgets with his bag straps, trying _really_ hard to maintain eye contact with Seyoon.

 

Seyoon’s smile is soft and Byeongkwan can only imagine his hair must be too, watching him scratch the back of his head, “Uh, yeah. Only for a few meetings. Two weeks at most?” He asks more to himself.

 

Byeongkwan nods slowly, on the verge of biting his nails, “Cool. Well, if you really need help, you know where to find me.”

 

He realizes Seyoon really doesn’t, and he kind of wants to hit himself in the head. He doesn’t, though. Seyoon’s seen enough of him for the day. He doesn’t need to embarrass himself any further.

Seyoon ignores Byeongkwan’s slip and nods instead, a small smile gracing his lips. Byeongkwan’s eyes flick to his lips and his throat is suddenly dry. Swallowing becomes the most difficult task in the world.

 

He kicks some rocks on the ground and curses the skies because _fuck you sky, whose great idea was it to give him full fucking lips,_ “Well, um, I have to go. See you around.” His eyes are on the floor and he gives Seyoon a small smile before hurrying to the exit.

 

 _Fuck,_ is his first thought when he leaves the grounds, but thinking that alone doesn’t seem to satisfy himself. He pulls out his phone, fingers shaking and breath ragged.

 

**@kbyeongkwan: i’m fucked fam.**

He feels a bit better.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which junhee and yoochan tease the living shit out of byeongkwan and his infatuated state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took me a while to write this because i wanted it at least twice as long as the first one. i hope it is though bc i have no idea and notes doesn't have word count. 
> 
> ANYWAYS, i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it in the bus. i relate the most to byeongkwan because i, too, suck at handling feelings. some of the things that will happen here will be inspired by my own experiences. feel free to guess which ones
> 
> seyoon isn't in chapter two im sorry BUT chapter 3 is dance class so ;) 
> 
>  
> 
> THANK YOU to li, who beta'd the shit out of this (i'm sorry for making you read 16 screenshots, i owe u my life) 
> 
> THANK YOU to huda, who inspired me to make this au 
> 
> THANK YOU to aly, who told me what beta means
> 
> THANK YOU to wowson , for being the most domestic bfs i've ever fucking seen aka did you see seyoon hug byeongkwan on his lap ? 
> 
>  
> 
> ps did u see that recent video of them dancing together Ded

  
**@yoochanie (reply to @kbyeongkwan): LMAOOO O O is this abt dance class  
  
@kbyeongkwan (reply to @yoochanie): shut the fuck up i will kill u  
  
@yoochanie (reply to @kbyeongkwan): @parkjunh hyung ! byeongkwan is literally Threatening me  
  
@kbyeongkwan (reply to @yoochanie and @parkjunh): oh god d d stfu and that’s byeongkwan HYUNG excus e me  
  
@parkjunh (reply to @kbyeongkwan and @yoochanie): byeongkwan’s just acting dude we all know inside he’s ;)  
  
@yoochanie (reply to @parkjunh and @kbyeongkwan): HAHAHAHAHAH true true  
  
@kbyeongkwan (reply to @yoochanie and @parkjunh): y’all really wanna Die don’t u  
  
@yoochanie (reply to @kbyeongkwan and @parkjunh):  <3  
  
@parkjunh (reply to @yoochanie and @kbyeongkwan): <3**  
  
Byeongkwan slumps on his bed and groans; images from this afternoon replaying in his mind. He remembers the look Junhee gave him; the knowing look and the raised, hinting eyebrows haunting him. He knows it isn’t Junhee’s fault. He isn’t in charge of Seyoon’s schedule, but he feels like throwing the blame at someone, and Junhee’s the best option for that (for now, at least).  
  
He can most definitely blame Junhee. If he didn’t tell Byeongkwan about Seyoon’s schedule change without any warning, then he wouldn’t be the mess he is right now. He’s not even sure why he is, but his stomach is turning and his chest is heaving, so yeah, he can blame Junhee as much as he wants.  
  
His phone buzzes, a stark contrast to the darkness of his room. It almost blinds him, really; eyes squinting and fingers tapping somewhere he can’t really see clearly.  
  
**From: Junhee Hyung  
**  
**We have dance class on Wednesday. Don’t forget to come ;)**  
  
_Yup_ , he decides, _it really is Junhee’s fault._  
  
He looks at his phone once more to check the time. It’s way too late for him to stay up any longer, so he tries to clean up the best he can before going to bed. Wednesday’s a few days away. Surely, he’s got time to prepare.  
  
That’s how he puts himself to sleep; eyes glued to his ceiling. He prays, begs even, that someone out there is kind enough to not let him embarrass himself any further. He doesn’t think anyone can hear, but maybe wishful thinking can help ease his nerves.  
  
“It’s just Seyoon.” He whispers to himself in the dark, “You have nothing to worry about.”  
  
If he worries further in the night as the image of a black-haired boy with soft eyes and full lips doesn’t leave his mind, he doesn’t admit it.  
  
  
  
  
  
“So,” Yoochan starts when he sees Byeongkwan, his face smug, “Same dance class with Thick Thighs, huh? Junhee hyung is so smart.” He snorts and bites down a laugh.  
  
Byeongkwan gives him a look, “Junhee hyung has nothing to do with his schedule. Plus, it’s just dance class. I don’t get why you’re so smug about it.” He’s not sure if he’s telling this to himself or Yoochan.  
  
Yoochan lets out a laugh this time, readjusting his bag strap, “Because, dude! You’re like, a damn dance prodigy, and Thick Thighs is going to see you in all your dance glory. Imagine the look on his face when you start moving.” His hands flail about dramatically while talking. He’s trying to paint a picture for his hyung, but something else makes Byeongkwan stop and face him.  
  
“Wait a minute, why is he called _Thick Thighs_?”  
  
Yoochan looks at him in disbelief, fully expecting him to know why, but he explains anyway. “Have you looked _anywhere_ other than his pretty face? Go lower and you’ll find out.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively and it takes Byeongkwan all his might not to smack him right up the head.  
  
“You’re disgusting.” He gives Yoochan a disappointed look. He hopes it’s enough to hide the heat pooling in his stomach at the thought of Seyoon’s nickname.  
  
_Thick thighs_. The nickname plays repeatedly in his head and he tries shaking it off, he really does. He tries not to imagine Seyoon dancing with him during practice. He tries not to imagine Seyoon’s face while watching him dance. He tries not to imagine Seyoon sweating or his hair sticking everywhere like an unintentional masterpiece.  
  
He tries, and remembers he’s just _human_.  
  
“Hyung? Hello?” Byeongkwan’s trance comes to a halt by Yoochan’s voice. He nearly stumbles backwards because of Yoochan snapping his fingers right in front of his face. Byeongkwan shakes his head, as if it helps to get rid of the thoughts, and responds with a hum.  
  
Yoochan pouts, “You’re not even paying attention to me. Stop thinking about his damn thick thighs and listen to your best friend.” Byeongkwan punches his arm at that.  
  
“What were you saying then?” He rolls his eyes at him and Yoochan shakes his head.  
  
“I said Seyoon is right there.” Yoochan says nonchalantly and Byeongkwan nearly trips on his own foot. He turns to where Yoochan points so quickly (did his neck snap?) but sees nothing. No sign of black hair or soft eyes. No feeling of Spring or flowers breezing through.  
  
No Seyoon.  
  
He twists Yoochan’s ear. “You’re a fucking dick.” He doesn’t think Yoochan hears him as the younger boy erupts in laughter. It doesn’t matter though, because he sticks to glaring at his best friend.  
  
“You used to be so smooth and cool with people,” Yoochan wheezes and catches his breath. He calms down, an amused look on his face, “What did he do to you?”  
  
_I don’t know_ , Byeongkwan thinks. The truth is simple and pretty stupid. He had seen Seyoon for the first time in the campus grounds during his free period. He was waiting for Yoochan’s class to finish so they can go out to eat. He was getting impatient, but then his eyes landed on Seyoon and he suddenly had all the time in the world.  
  
Seyoon was with another boy. He looked a bit older than both of them; his features soft and nurturing (Byeongkwan thinks the braces made him even softer). They were talking. The boy in braces started laughing really loud, Seyoon’s small smile was slowly getting bigger, and Byeongkwan, well, he was about to lose his fucking mind.  
  
“Hey!” He jumped at the sound of Yoochan’s voice bringing him back to his senses. If there’s a tinge of pink creeping in his cheeks, he tried to hide it from his best friend.  
  
“What took you so long?” He groaned, shoulders slumped and body turned away from the two boys. He felt like a small child getting caught stealing, and it wasn’t the best feeling in the world, so he hid. He tried to limit the glances he gave the black-haired boy with the softest smile. He thought he was pulling it off well; even thought of patting himself on the back, but Yoochan’s scrutinizing look wiped the relieved look right off his face.  
  
“Who are you looking at?” Yoochan’s look was pointed and his tone was filled with suspicion, but he answered his own question when his eyes found the two boys. A smirk grew on his lips.  
  
“So,” He started, “Which one is it? Seyoon or Donghun?”  
  
Byeongkwan was never good in acting or hiding something from Yoochan, and this just proved it, “What? I don’t know what you mean.” He croaks and clears his throat. Yoochan’s face is smug and Byeongkwan’s rapid blinking makes it even worse.  
  
“Staring. I know you were staring at one of them, dude. Who is it?” Yoochan looks at him knowingly and all he can do is groan.  
  
“Fine! The guy on the left.” He glares at Yoochan and stares at the floor. He doesn’t look at the smirk on Yoochan’s face. He might end up slapping it right off.  
  
He’s not looking but he hears Yoochan hum (he thinks it’s of approval). He feels the younger pat him on the back. “Seyoon. Nice.” Is all he’s able to say.  
  
Byeongkwan turns to him quickly (he thinks this is what a whiplash feels like), “That’s all? No stupid comments or laughing at my face and me kicking your ass?” Yoochan’s a talkative boy. He comments on everything as much as he can ( _Hyung_ , he said out of nowhere once, _your ketchup is basically tomato guts_.), so you can’t blame Byeongkwan for wondering why he’s staying quiet.  
  
Yoochan shrugs and continues eating his candy bar (no one knows when he started eating.),

“I don’t think there’s much to say. You flirt all the time. I’m sure you can work this out if you want to.”

 

  
He hasn't worked it out.

It's been a few months since he first saw Seyoon; his _stupid_ hair and _stupid_ soft smile and — now that he knows — his possibly _stupid_ thick thighs. Seyoon is all kinds of stupidly cute and Byeongkwan couldn't be farther from working it out.

  
"I think if he tries hard enough, he can be an art subject." Byeongkwan can hear faint mumbling but Seyoon's nickname is all that plays in his head.

"Taeyang still needs a nude model for his finals, right?" Someone else is mumbling this time and _does he hear someone chewing?_

"Yeah." More chewing and plastic crumpling, "It'd take years to get his nose right, though."

He snaps back to reality and sees Junhee and Yoochan looking like they're criticizing artwork.

He's friends with idiots.

"When did you get here, hyung?"

"When did you start spacing out?"

He wonders how many times he's pictured killing Junhee in the past few days.

"You guys suck." Byeongkwan groans and rubs a hand over his face. He can hear the two snickering and biting down laughter as they follow him to the quad.

"Aw, come on, Byeongkwan-ah," Junhee coos, "You haven't liked someone this way in a while. Some people even call this a late-bloomed puppy love." He pauses to look at Yoochan for confirmation and Yoochan gives him just that.

"Your late-bloomed puppy love means we have a late-bloomed right to tease the living shit out of you. Do know it's purely out of love." Junhee squeezes Byeongkwan's shoulders affectionately, the biggest grin gracing his face, and if it makes Byeongkwan's glare falter a fraction, he suppresses it with a purse of his lips.

"I'm not sure that's how crushes work."

"Oh, but Byeongkwan," Junhee releases an overdramatic sigh, "That's _exactly_ how it works."

"Whatever." Byeongkwan mumbles and starts to walk towards the quad.

"Hey, wait up!" He turns around to a panting Junhee, his hands falling on his knees.

"Are you gonna tease me again?" Byeongkwan deadpans, but the smile on Junhee never leaves his face (Byeongkwan wonders if Junhee's the sun sometimes).

"No, I won't. I've already done enough of that for the day." Junhee pats his shoulder and squeezes it, "Seyoon or not, please come to practice. We're missing out on one of our bests."

The grin on Junhee's face from a while ago subsides to a small smile, but the sincerity remains, and Byeongkwan doesn't doubt that. No matter how much his hyung teases the living shit out of him, he knows he's always looking out for him.

So Byeongkwan mirrors the small smile on his friend's lips, and nods, "I'll try my best to come."

"Good, because Seyoon's looking forward to it." Junhee raises his eyebrows suggestively and laughs at the sight of Byeongkwan's wide eyes.

"Are you serious?"

Junhee bends over in a fit of laughter and Yoochan follows. Byeongkwan's wide eyes narrow at the two because _oh, right._

Seyoon doesn't know him.

"Oh, fuck you two!" He whines and starts walking away again. He hears the two catch their breaths before running up to him, a string of meaningless apologies follow suit.

They continue the rest of the day like that; the two boys making fun of Byeongkwan's stupid infatuated state, him staring at Seyoon with every chance he gets (he can't help it, the boy radiates like the fucking sun whenever he enters), and his best friends count how long — expecting him to break his record once again (he does every time).

This has been their routine for the past few months, and Byeongkwan almost has it memorized like the back of his hand.

He doesn't mind, really. Junhee and Yoochan have been teasing him for as long as he can remember, so it's not what keeps him up at night.

It's the image of a black-haired boy, the feeling of his heart dropping to his stomach, and the thoughts that roam endlessly with it.

It's been a few months, and he wonders how much longer this is going to be.

 

 

 


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dance practice with seyoon begins, yoochan loves exposing byeongkwan, and everything in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp this took me a long time to post i'm so sorry for that. lots of shit happened + i waited for my new laptop to arrive so i could /finally/ write properly and easily. i'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter but i hope you find it a tad bit entertaining. i promise to try and make the next one a bit better.
> 
> p.s. no one has beta'd this so all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> anywhoo oo o here you go !! i hope y'all enjoy

Space and time are two different things. But when you put it together, it's powerful enough to bite Byeongkwan in the ass, which is why Wednesday comes around faster than he originally planned.

 

He stares at the dance studio sign for a few more minutes (he thinks it's been five), his eyes narrowing as time passes. He thinks the sign is mocking him and this makes him tighten his hold on his gym bag.

 

It's not that he's nervous to come back. He's happy, even, to have some form of stress reliever after a long week of midterms. It's the latest addition to the group that makes the balls of his feet rock back and forth right in front of the entrance.

 

Before this, the closest he's ever gotten to Seyoon is whenever he's with Junhee around the campus. They'd nod, mumble a few words, share small smiles, and that'd be it. The smallest interactions fill his fantasies for days, sometimes even weeks.  So if the quickest hi's and hello's got him shaking, he imagines going to dance practice with him would be an out-of-body experience.

 

And, as if space and time didn't fuck him up enough, a familiar voice snaps him from his steady glare at the sign.

 

"Hey." Seyoon's smile is small and polite, but it still radiates. Byeongkwan even thinks it puts the sun to shame.

 

"Oh, hi." He returns a small smile, half expecting their interaction to end right there. But Seyoon is full of surprises; one of which being a small and suppressed laughter (if he wasn't paying attention, he thinks he would have missed it).

 

Byeongkwan feels his smile slowly grow _,_ but the look of wonder and confusion remains, "Why are you laughing?"

 

"You're smiling but your eyes are glaring. It's funny."

 

Seyoon bites down the laughter on his lips and Byeongkwan wants to choke himself for even _looking_ at it.

 

"Oh, sorry."

 

The apology comes almost automatically, as if he's rehearsed it over a hundred times, as if being around Seyoon makes him the pathetic and apologetic mess he is right now, and it doesn't go unnoticed in Seyoon's eyes.

 

"Why are you sorry?"

 

"I don't know."

 

Seyoon's smile drops and his face contorts to a look of confusion. Byeongkwan wants to slap himself for being the cause.

 

But he doesn't, because, like an answered prayer, Yoochan calls for him.

 

"Byeongkwan-hyung! You came!" He's ecstatic, his hands are flailing everywhere, and Byeongkwan has never felt this relieved seeing the younger boy scream his name for everyone to hear.

 

He twists Yoochan's ear, but it doesn't faze the younger boy, "Of course I did, punk. You and Junhee-hyung wouldn't shut up about it."

 

Yoochan's smile widens at this and Byeongkwan wonders if that's even humanly possible. "Only because practice has been lame without you. No one's teaching us cool dance moves when you're not around."

 

There's a glare on Byeongkwan's eyes but his heart just softens. He pats Yoochan's hair fondly before ruffling it, "Yeah, okay, whatever you say, ass-kisser."

 

It's only then that Yoochan notices Seyoon on his other side and he perks up at the sight of the two. Seyoon is all long limbs and broad shoulders, but he becomes tiny when he wants to be; invisible even.

 

"Oh! Seyoon-hyung, you're here too! Did you guys come together?" The smirk on Yoochan's lips is nowhere near subtle and Byeongkwan can only hope Seyoon doesn't think too much of it.

 

"No." Byeongkwan and Seyoon say at the same time; Byeongkwan's in the form of a croak and Seyoon's is calm, collected, steady.

 

Byeongkwan wishes his sounded the same.

 

"I saw Byeongkwan glaring at the sign." Seyoon starts and so does his smile.

 

Yoochan's is even bigger, "He does that every time."

 

"Oh, fuck off." Byeongkwan whines and the two laugh at that. He covers his face with his hand, but he can't help himself from peaking.

 

Beyond the crevices of his fingers, Seyoon is _glowing._ His body is rumbling in laughter, his smile is small, but the brightness in it is wide.

 

Byeongkwan's hand drops to his side slowly and he is breathless. Yoochan and Seyoon keep talking in the background, but Byeongkwan tunes it out. He takes the tiniest step back, eyes wide.

 

_I did that,_ he thinks in the midst of parted lips and disbelief.

 

Byeongkwan did that, and he realizes he wants to _keep_ doing that.

 

"Hyung?" Yoochan's voice pulls ( _drags_ sounds more fitting) him back to reality and he hums in response.

 

Yoochan looks at him weirdly, "Aren't you going in?"

 

Byeongkwan realizes then that Yoochan and Seyoon are halfway through the doors; their confused looks nearly identical.

 

Byeongkwan shakes his head, as if to bring him even closer to reality, "Oh. Yeah. Coming."

 

Yoochan enters the studio first to turn on all the lights, Byeongkwan and Seyoon following closely. The white lights bring attention to the rows of full-sized mirrors connecting the ceiling and wooden floors, and if you look just at the corner on the right — clad in a loose, white shirt and grey sweats — Byeongkwan looks like he complements the place.

 

He feels like it too.

 

It's been a while since he last saw the studio, let alone _entered_ it, but it doesn't feel like he left in the first place. The plastic chairs are still neatly stacked on the other corner (Junhee never lets Yoochan leave until it is), the stereo is still against the wall, and an empty, orange water bottle is on top of it. He turns his gaze back to the mirror and sees Seyoon putting his bag down by the chairs.

 

Byeongkwan thinks Seyoon looks like he belongs here too.

 

He tries to shake the thought away. "When is Junhee-hyung coming?"

 

"He should be here in a while. He said something about a last-minute paper?" Yoochan's fixing the stereo as he speaks; fumbling with the aux cord and his phone.

 

There's a comfortable silence between the three before Seyoon starts talking. "So, how long have you guys been in dance?"

 

Yoochan's nose is scrunched and his hand scratches the back of his neck. "A year? I'm only a Sophomore so I'm pretty new."

 

Seyoon looks at Byeongkwan expectantly, a soft look in the brown of his eyes.

 

Byeongkwan tries not to swallow too hard. "Three years. I took summer programs before freshman year, so this place is pretty much my second home."

 

"He isn't lying. He slept here once." Yoochan sounds proud as he says this, and Byeongkwan thinks of shoving the aux cord up his ass.

 

"I forgot my key."

 

"The studio was locked too." Yoochan says pointedly.

 

Byeongkwan's glare is deadly at the sight of Yoochan's smirk; similar to the one he threw at the studio sign, the only difference being the blush creeping down his neck.

 

Byeongkwan hears Seyoon suppress a chuckle (it sounds fond?) and Byeongkwan feels the pink in his cheeks turn red.

 

Byeongkwan looks at the both of them and groans.

 

“Whatever. Let’s just start practice before Junhee-hyung arrives.”

 

 

 

 

Dance practice is going a lot smoother than Byeongkwan expected.

 

Instead of being a stuttering, nonsensical mess, he chats with Seyoon easily (a part of him thinks it's because he barely has the time to talk). They share a few laughs and dance moves they've learned through the years. At one point, Byeongkwan's brave enough to teach Seyoon one of the dances he choreographed; the flushed cheeks and wide eyes that make up Seyoon's face are enough to make him feel proud of himself.

 

"You choreographed _that_?" Seyoon gapes and Byeongkwan can't help the blush creeping up his cheeks.

 

"Yeah. It was, um, for our final showcase last year." Byeongkwan catches his breath and basks in the exhilarating feeling dance brings him.

 

Byeongkwan doesn't remember the last time he was in the studio, thinks he forgot the way his whole body tingles at every move he makes; forgets the sensations coursing through his veins at the beat of the music, the way the dance moves come to him like second nature.

 

He thinks he forgot, but the music makes him remember.

 

And Seyoon, well, Seyoon sees that — looks at Byeongkwan like he's the most transparent person in the world.

 

His eyes are filled with wonder and his expression is anything but short of awestruck. He looks at Byeongkwan as if he can feel Byeongkwan's passion radiate through the wooden floors.

 

Seyoon's eyes have stars in them, and Byeongkwan finally understands why people love looking at the night sky.

 

"That was amazing."

 

Byeongkwan thinks he can die happy now, and Yoochan senses it from the other side of the practice room, so Yoochan does something _completely_ normal and rational.

 

 Yoochan throws a towel at Byeongkwan.

 

"Hyung, your hair looks like it's saran wrapped to your head." He doesn't fight the laughter making his whole body shake; hands clutched to his stomach and grin almost splitting his face in half.

 

Byeongkwan wants Yoochan dead before he dies.

 

"Remember when you loved me?" Byeongkwan wipes the sweat off his face before throwing the towel back at Yoochan, and the younger boy pouts.

 

"Hyung, when did I _not_ love you?"

 

"You threw a towel at my face." Byeongkwan blinks.

 

"It's a metaphor for my love." Yoochan sings, hands clutched to his chest.

 

"Metaphor? You failed Literature twice." Byeongkwan's tone is flat, but a smirk makes its way to his lips at the sight of Yoochan's horrified look.

 

"You promised you wouldn't bring that up! Why would you do that?" Yoochan's voice almost cracks and Byeongkwan can't help (he doesn't want to, really) the grin on his face.

 

"It's a metaphor for my love."

 

When Byeongkwan banters with Yoochan, the rest of the world is a big and blurry mess. They've proved that over the years, especially in high school. Byeongkwan even thinks that if he tries hard enough, he  can point where his bruises used to be; a vivid reminder of suppressed laughter and irritated teachers.

 

So, it really isn't a surprise when Byeongkwan forgets for a minute that Seyoon's there and Seyoon can hear everything.

 

It's the words that come out of Seyoon's lips that remind Byeongkwan that _oh, right._

_He's here._

 

"I don't think you look saran-wrapped." The words slip from Seyoon's lips before he can take it back, and Byeongkwan thinks he hasn't gaped this big in (he thinks about it in the second-long silence), well, ever.

 

Yoochan's expression isn't any different.

 

"What." Byeongkwan blinks.

 

Seyoon scratches the back of his neck and Byeongkwan thinks his eyes are playing with him when he sees the faintest blush tint Seyoon's cheeks.

 

"I said I don't think you look saran-wrapped."

 

There's a moment of silence.

 

And then Yoochan’s laughter.

 

Byeongkwan bites back his with an amused and fond grin. He shakes his head as he looks at Seyoon.

 

"Thanks, dude. I'm glad I don't look that way in your eyes."

 

"Eh," Seyoon tilts his head and examines Byeongkwan playfully. There’s a glint of mischief hidden in the brown of his eyes and Byeongkwan pretends he doesn't feel like disintegrating.

 

"You look more like a soft cat."

 

Byeongkwan blinks. Blinks again. Blinks thrice in total, before his laughter comes in the form of choking sounds.

 

They continue talking about cats because Kim Byeongkwan is a fucking cat enthusiast and hearing Seyoon talk about it makes him feel like space and time aren't fucking him up anymore. In fact, Byeongkwan would even pat space and time at the back because _you picked a good one, universe. you really did._

 

The accomplished smile on Seyoon's face ignites a newfound energy within him, and the rest of the practice goes on like that. Byeongkwan hears Yoochan mention something about "fucking furries", but he chooses to ignore it.

 

If banters with Yoochan make the world a big blur, Seyoon makes everything else black and white.

 

Byeongkwan learns that day that it's a different kind of high — the one you experience when someone you like looks impressed as they watch you do what you love. It's the thought of someone important liking the way you do what you love that makes the perfect harmony. He realizes — as he looks at Seyoon's expression — that harmony exists between them.

 

There's music in the way Seyoon smiles at Byeongkwan, and he wants to believe the rhythm comes from him.

 

 

 

 

Dance practice is over before Byeongkwan even realizes it.

 

If he was being completely honest, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the familiar exhilarating feeling that came with beat drops and numbered routines, the playful banter expected from Junhee and Yoochan’s company (like he was never gone at all), and the amazed looks plastered all over the freshmen’s faces (if a particular senior caught Byeongkwan’s attention more than the rest, he’ll never admit). But it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine.

 

For one, he thinks it’s _really_ fucking unfair that he’s always in charge of locking up afterwards.

 

He isn’t even the youngest anymore, and yet he’s always assigned to clean up after everyone.

 

_Hyung, you’re disrupting the social hierarchy._ He whined at Junhee once, and all the older boy did was ruffle his hair in amusement.

 

_Fucking bastard,_ Byeongkwan thinks.

 

He grumbles in annoyance at the sight of underclassmen happily making their way out the exit, relieved that their suffering for the day is over and done with. Byeongkwan wishes he could relate.

 

Instead, he’s crouched down to lock the studio doors, and his gym bag is thrown haphazardly beside him. He’s groaning about _lucky fuckers_ under his breath when a familiar voice startles him.

 

“Do you always lock up after practice?” Seyoon’s tone is curious and head is tilted when Byeongkwan turns to look at him.

 

“Um,” Byeongkwan starts after completely locking up, “Yeah, Junhee-hyung always makes me do it.”

 

Seyoon fucking _giggles_ and Byeongkwan wants to choke on his keys at the sound.

 

“Aren’t freshmen supposed to close up after everyone?” Seyoon scrunches his nose at this, and it takes a shit ton of power for Byeongkwan to not _wheeze_ at how adorable it is.

 

Byeongkwan clears his throat and snorts. “Tell that to your friend.”

 

“He’s your friend, too.”

 

“He’s dead to me right now.”

 

Byeongkwan makes his way to the bus stop and Seyoon falls into step with him. Byeongkwan wishes he could say they fell into a comfortable silence easily; that it stayed that way until he reached the bus stop and waved politely at a smiling Seyoon’s retreating figure, but Byeongkwan remembers that space and time the rest of the damn universe loves fucking him up.

 

“So you like cats?” Byeongkwan blurts out of nowhere and it startles the older boy. It really shouldn’t be a bizarre question, but his tone while saying it makes a different story.

 

Byeongkwan’s about to apologize automatically (again) when Seyoon finally speaks. “Yeah.”

 

His lips purse into a small smile. Byeongkwan believes there’s softness glossed all over it.

 

“My sister took in three strays when we were little. I always wanted to scold her because we had no room, but you should’ve seen the look in her eyes.” Seyoon continues, eyes expressive and hands flailing about, “It makes you want to give her the world.”

 

It takes one look at Seyoon’s eyes for Byeongkwan to understand what he means.

 

Byeongkwan understands Seyoon’s sister because he was like that too when he was younger. He remembers opening the door to a small, fragile kitten, and suddenly shoeboxes and plastic bowls were constantly missing in their house. For a while, he thought he was doing great in hiding it from his parents, but cat toys started appearing around the house, and he figured the meows were too loud to conceal.

 

“What about you?” Seyoon snaps Byeongkwan out of his nostalgic train of thought, “Do you like cats too?”

 

Byeongkwan’s smile grows at this and nods happily, “I do. They’re soft, independent, and affectionate. Who wouldn’t love them?”

 

“I know right!” Seyoon actually fucking squeals and it’s really odd hearing it in his deep voice, but Byeongkwan thinks he like it.

 

“They’re pretty cute too.” Seyoon adds and really, it just acts as a cue for Byeongkwan to start his timeless rant about breeds and paws and everything in between.

 

He’s told this to Yoochan and Junhee a thousand times (they’ve grown tired of it, really), but nothing tops the way Seyoon pays attention to every word he says.

 

If Seyoon watching him dance was an out-of-body experience, Seyoon listening to him talk about cats is a whole new level of ethereal (Byeongkwan’s very fond of both).

 

They talk about cats even after they reach the bus stop – roads empty and lights gleaming – and it really is the perfect place for satisfying, time-stopping conversations like theirs, but the skies think they’ve had enough talking about pussies and the like for the day.

 

 Byeongkwan sees his bus at the corner of his eye and he stops talking. His laugh sounds uneasy and his voice is weak when he speaks, “That’s my bus.”

 

Seyoon looks at where Byeongkwan’s pointing and turns quiet (maybe even deflated). “Oh.” He mutters under his breath and Byeongkwan can’t help but wince at the awkward silence slowly resurfacing.

 

But Byeongkwan’s good at acting fast, even if it bites him in the ass most (all) of the time. “You should follow this CatPorn account I follow.”

 

It comes out of his mouth before he even thinks, and he should really expect this from himself at this point, but Seyoon doesn’t and it’s clear in the way his eyes widened and mouth gaped.

 

Byeongkwan wants punch himself.

 

“It’s not cat porn!” He stutters immediately. “It’s a twitter account full of cat pictures and videos. Kind of how food porn works, right? Same concept. Definitely not porn. _Nowhere_ near porn.” Byeongkwan stresses and resists the urge to pull his hair out of his head. Seyoon doesn’t look horrified anymore, but Byeongkwan’s embarrassment only worsens.

 

He really should have known making conversation with Seyoon easily wasn’t going to last long.

 

There’s no way to hide the crimson in Byeongkwan’s cheeks except, well, the bus coming to a halt right in front of him. He sighs in relief when the doors open.

 

“I’ll, um, get going.” He mutters in a rush and staggers his way up the steps. He hears Seyoon say bye in return but he can’t bear to look back at the boy. He’s done enough of embarrassing himself for the day (he thinks it’s enough for the year, too) and he really can’t afford another mishap, so he slumps down the closest vacant seat he finds and hits his head at the back of the chair.

 

He absently fishes out his phone and turns to his twitter app (he knows social media isn’t a great coping mechanism, but _fuck you Men’s Health,_ he’s going to indulge in unhealthy, public, and possibly dangerous tweeting for the sake of his sanity), already typing in a self-deprecating tweet like it’s second nature.

 

**@kbyeongkwan: i’m a fucking embarrassing mess**

Junhee retweets, Yoochan gives it a like, and he wishes he had better friends (not really, but the sentiment is there).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if y'all already noticed but most of the tweets are inspired by my own so if y'all wanna chat and bask in self-deprecating humor, my twitter is @yoochna


End file.
